


How Spock and Uhura handled the sex drug

by avidita



Series: Tuition [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:36:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2595614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidita/pseuds/avidita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fits nicely right behind Tuition, but can be read as a smutty PWP, too. Not beta-read yet. Uhura is the one hit by the drug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Spock and Uhura handled the sex drug

Nyota was sweating profusely. Her smell was significantly more intense than Spock was used to. He could also detect the heavy arousal the alien drug caused in her.

 

He was very grateful that the chemical components of it didn’t affect Vulcans at all. The drug temporarily destroyed most of the impulse controls humans had in their psychological buildup.

Vulcans had none of the kind to begin with, which was precisely why they handled any and all impulses at their point of origin and controlled the emotions that caused them.

 

They were walking down the corridor, side by side. They hadn’t talked about it, but when the Captain had recommended sexual activities with the chosen partner or alone, followed by a period of rest, she had glanced at him and he had inclined his head in agreement.

 

Nyota had a mate, it would have been illogical for her to fall back to masturbation. So he accompanied her to her quarters, which were nearer to the sickbay than his.

 

The crewmembers they passed were all walking hastily, some of them chatting in hushed tones. The morning had left the Enterprise in a state of hightened alertness, and the meeting with the supposedly hostile aliens had left the majority of the tension without any outlet.

 

Suddenly Nyota stumbled to the side, catching herself with one hand to the corridor’s wall. His grip on her arm would have been too late to catch her, had she not reacted so quickly and caught herself, but he had an automated lag in physical reactions in her direction by now.

Had he let his instincts reign and tried to catch her as quickly as possible, he would not have been in control enough to tamper down his strength, and her upper arm would at least be badly bruised, if not snapped.

 

She nodded at him and tried to walk on, huffing a breath in annoyance of her state.

He could understand that, but he kept his hand under her arm anyway, regardless of who might see them. Their status as a couple was widely known by now anyway, and the compromised physical condition of his mate outranked the need for composure.

 

She ducked her head in what Spock had no trouble to identify was shame.

“There is no need to be ashamed, Nyota”, he scolded her quietly. “It was by no decision of yours that you were impaired by this drug.”

She smiled tightly and nodded, her neck too stiff for his liking.

 

Then she stumbled again, worse than before, and Spock decided that composure would be served best by transporting her quickly into a location that provided sufficient privacy. He put one hand around her back to gather her up, hooked the other behind her knees and had her on his arms in one quick motion.

A surprised sound escaped her and she stared at him with wide, dark eyes. They were shining with additional humidity, and Spock felt his brow furrowing.

“Are you in pain?” he asked and she quickly shook her head.

 

Her smell seemed more intense in this position and he tilted his head a little, concentrating on evaluating the reaction that fragrance caused in his hindbrain.

He was half human, after all, and there were impulses triggered by this.

 

Her body tensed up a little as they were passed by two science officers, who slowed down a little and stared openly at Spock, who was standing with his feet a little apart to keep optimally balanced, Nyota in his arms, both of her legs dangling over his left arm, her back reclining on his right.

He checked if her short skirt left her exposed in this position in any way, but was satisfied to find that was not so. They had probably just been staring at their unusual posture.

 

Nyota mumbled his name and let her head fall against his shoulder. Spock walked on, with a far quicker pace than she would have managed in her state, but still carefully minding the corners and crewmembers that were crossing their path with hasty strides.

 

In front of her quarters he debated for a second if he should let her down to type in her code, or if he should just relocate her weight onto one arm, which was what a large part of him seemed to prefer for some reason.

Nyota solved the problem by lifting her head and raising a hand to type it in herself. Spock glanced at her approvingly and she smiled tightly.

Once inside he told the computer to lock their quarters and found himself reluctant to let her down.

 

The reflection of another, defining moment of their relationship wasn’t lost on him, so he raised an eyebrow to convey his small amusement as he asked,  
“What do you need.”

She stiffened in obvious need to be let down, and he complied immediately. Then she hugged him tightly, one hand in his hair, the other clawed into the back of his blue tunic.

“Spock...” she whispered.

Spock inclined his head, embraced her and asked further,  
“Would any sexual activity suffice or do you require a certain kind?”

Her breathing had become a little laboured, and he was starting to feel slight discontentment with her obvious discomfort.

“I don’t know”, she breathed.

“Nyota... what do you need?”

 

She looked up at him then. Her lips were flushed and slightly opened, and the scent of her arousal was surrounding him pleasantly. He let his head dip down a little to touch his forehead to hers and suggested quietly,  
“Well. If you can think of any imminent need, or disagreement with anything I might do, do not hesistate to voice it, please.”

She nodded and smiled at him gratefully. Then her brow furrowed, and her voice had less than the usual amount of precision.  
“You carried me. Did you carry me here?”

“I did.”

 

Since she did not, he carefully started to undress her. She looked down and watched his hands.

Then she stared straight ahead at his chest and started to stroke under his tunic. Her hands were warmer than previously experienced, but still cool on his skin, which was warmer than any humans.

Each of her thumbs passed over one acromastium of his, and he could hear her hum in appreciation of his physical appearance, as was sometimes her wont.

He could feel the corners of his lips twitching in responce. Her tunic was thrown onto the nearby chair, and his fingers opened her brassiere with the ease of practice.

 

She stretched and threw her head back , both of her hands now buried in his hair. He opened her skirt and let it fall down while he leant forward to lick her exposed throat. She moaned quietly and arched even more in arousal so obvious and desperate as Spock had never seen before.

 

One of his hands grabbed her tight behind, the other stroked the middle of her small, lacy underpants to test if, yes, she was aroused enough to be wet through the thin material. That seemed very relevant to the more animalistic part of himself.

 

She moaned his name and stepped out of her skirt to spread her legs a little, back still strechted taught, but her head coming up again to look at him. He took one of her tight nipples into his mouth and pleasured her with suction and wet movement, licked her fresh perspiration from her chest and switched to the other nipple to pleasure her there, too.

 

Nyota cursed and her hand tightened in his hair. His half closed eyes opened widely at that.

He had never heard her utter this word before. It seemed appropriate as well as slightly amusing that the inhibitor effect of the drug would make her voice vulgarities, of all things.

One of his hands was still stroking her softly, but he began to find his position uncomfortable, so he kneeled down in front of her to pull down her underpants and help her step out of them.

She was now completely naked but for her black boots, and since Spock new her proneness as well as her aversion to cold feet, he did not amend that.

 

He was also quite able to appreciate the aesthetics, but that was of course secondary.

 

She was combing through his hair, breathing hard by now. She always liked to muss up his hair for some reason, it’s natural thickness soon making it stick up in all directions. Her dark eyes gazed down to him, and she licked her lips unconsciously.

 

He nudged her knees apart a fraction more and then put his lower arms behind her thighs, thus prepared to catch her, should she become unbalanced again. Her breath started to hitch wetly.

 

He leant forward and started to lick her broadly. He even managed not to flinch at her surprised, loud exclamation, and was very satisfied with the long, helpless moaning that shout developed into.

 

Spock kept up the broad, even strokes with his tongue, his mouth and nostrils filling completely with the smell and taste of his mate. He willed down his impending arousal, watching the reactions of his hindbrain closely and controlling his emotions satisfyingly.

 

“Spock,” she whispered. “Spock, fuck, Spock...”

There it was again, the vulgarity he’d never heard her utter before. One of her hands went to his left ear and stroked it tightly. He pulled back a little and said,  
“Nyota, please don’t.”

This was about her body, and he did not need her sabotaging his control like that.

She nodded helplessly and choked out,  
“Please don’t stop, Spock, it’s- it’s getting worse.”

He frowned a little, disliking her predicament greatly. He pulled one hand to her front again, to spread her labia. His other hand held her bottom, to keep her upright and catch her if necessary.

He had far better access now and alternated the broad licks with harder flicks and tight suction on her clitoris.

She wailed, clawed at his hair and bent forward, her thighs trembling while she orgasmed.

He let his licks become gentler, then pulled back and tilted his head, mumbling:  
“Fascinating.”

While she always had been a very excitable partner in bed, he’d never brought her to climax this fast.

 

Since she could not hold herself up anymore and was instead stooped over his kneeling form, he put one hand to her hip and lifted her on his shoulder while standing up.

She yelped and dissolved into breathless laughter.

“You’re carrying me again!” One of her hands tried to swat his behind, and he felt his eyebrows raising. He allowed the satisfaction to spread a little. Apparently her immediate discomfort had lessened.

“Spock!” she slurred seriously while he carried her to the bed. “God, Spock, I love you! So much, you know that, right?”

While the exact phrase had never come up between them, it had been palpable in all her actions so far, so he said,  
“Indeed I do.”

 

She threw herself out of his grasp as they reached the bed, and for a second his heart lurched while he saw her fall. But she just bounced on the mattress a little, leant back on her elbows and immediately spread her legs. Her wide, open grin died quickly as she saw his heavy scowl and rigid posture.

She swallowed and looked around for something to cover herself with, her legs snapping together again.

He shook his head sharply and admonished her:

“Do be careful!”

She blinked at him and started to smile again.

“I’m not fragile, Spock.”

He swallowed and said tightly,

“Yes you are.”

His gaze lingered on her long, firm legs, his hindbrain wallowing in regret.

 

She tilted her head and opened her mouth a little, slowly spreading her legs again and watching his every reaction with dark, shining eyes.

His eyes snapped up to hers and his lips twitched.

“Yes”, he agreed. “I do appreciate the view.”

“I’m not fragile, though, really, Spock.”

He blinked, processing her need to affirm that fact and inclined his head a fraction.

“Am I assuming correctly that you would prefer me not to be too gentle in our impeding coupling?”

Her eyes grew big and she let herself fall back onto the bed with a long moan.

“Oh God, Spock...”

 

He started to undress, which made her sit up again very quickly, crawling to the end of the bed to touch as much of the newly revealed skin as she could. He noticed how her boots dragged on the covers but did not comment.

 

She grew impatient and opened his trousers herself, taking his limp member in her hands, and looked up with a smile. He nodded and relaxed his shoulders a little, allowing his penis to become erect. She loved watching this, he knew, and sometimes her tongue darted out to steal short, cool licks.

 

Spock inhaled deeply and concentrated on the precise mixture of control and feeling he needed right now. Then he tested a theory.

“Lay back and spread your legs again.”

She groaned and complied immediately. Her hand darted between her legs and he clucked his tongue. Apparently she liked displaying her eagerness. He watched her sharply and said,  
“Are you really that impatient? Is your body ruling you so utterly right now?”

“Yes!” she snarled and glared at him. “I thought you were here to help!”

He nodded, stepped out of his trousers and boots, knelt onto the mattress, grasped her knees, thus tilting her pelvis and pushed home in one single, long thrust.

She actually screamed, the sound animalistic and so full of lust that something slipped by Spock’s control and went right into his blood.

 

She pulled at him, canting her hips and met his every harsh, fast thrust. Then her hands found one of her favourite pastimes and started stroking his ears, harder than usual.

Spock growled helplessly, his control slipping further, and he just couldn’t make himself try to remedy it.

 

This was exquisite.

He would have to trust on his mate to call out if he really hurt her. Instead of that however she cried out,  
“God, Spock, fuck, you’re so good, you’re so big and hard and yes how I fucking need this!”

He was relatively sure that she said even more in that vein, but his blood was pounding too loud in his ears by then.

 

He had never done so, but now he found himself just fucking her, no control, no consideration. He could feel the copious amounts of fluid she produced, unusually much, he could still taste her, her smell was everywhere, and the wet slaps they produced were an uncommonly obscene sound.

 

When he growled again and bit into her leg and then her shoulder, nearly folding her in half, she just spurned him on, tearing at his hair and, gentler, on his ears, and he spilled inside of her helplessly as her muscles contracted around him.

She hissed,  
“Yes!” and bucked into his last few convulsions.

Then he sank onto her, also a first, for he knew himself to be far too heavy for her to be truly comfortable under him.

 

Her arms and legs pulled him even tighter against her, his penis still inside her. She nudged his face up and kissed him hard. He kissed back, but softer, his eyes still closed.

He was still evaluating what had happened and what possible consequences might ail her now.

It felt a little bit like rebooting an inner science station.

A snort escaped him at that thought, and her low, happy laughter made something glow brightly, deep in his chest.

 

Suddenly he just knew what to say when he would call his father back, who had informed him that T’Pring had not been one of the few lucky enough to escape Vulcan.

He had his mate.

And apparently she would be a fine partner at his side when his pon farr would come around.  
He couldn’t help the delight at that, although his control slowly came back to him.

 

“Spock,” Nyota whispered and her voice sounded apologetic and amused in equal parts. “God, I’m still so fucking horny!”

 

He heaved himself up on one hand and let her touch the muscles of his shoulders and arms for a moment, since she seemed momentarily smitten with that. Then he pulled his limp penis out of her and inserted two fingers instead. The knuckle of his thumb was pressing down on her unusually swollen clitoris.

 

His hand was wet in a matter of seconds, and her legs spread widely around him. She still caressed his hard upper body, his control not yet able again to push down any smugness about that.

She licked her lips and smiled at him gratefully, rocking against his hand, her eyes crossing sometimes, her muscles contracting time and time again.

“Spock,” she choked out. Her hands clawed at his shoulders. “Spock. Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he mumbled and buried his nose between her breasts.


End file.
